


And Yet (Here We Are)

by whenshewrites



Series: SterekWeek2020 [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Derek as Geralt, Derek is a grump, Derek's Horse Camaro, Drabble, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Quick drabble, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit, Stiles as Jaskier, The Bath Scene, The Witcher AU, sterekweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:29:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27289429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenshewrites/pseuds/whenshewrites
Summary: “You’re just being difficult.”“I am not.”“You are too, Derek. Come on, I need your help here! How would you feel if I were killed?”From Derek’s expression, Stiles almost wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer. But then Derek sighed and splashed water over his face again. When he blinked over sideways again, a little more blood washed away, the witcher didn’t look nearly as threatening. “How many of these lords want to kill you?”“Oh my gods,” Stiles said, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t know. One or two? Maybe three? Plus another handful or four—”“Why.”Stiles wrinkled his nose. “I’ve been told I talk too much.”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: SterekWeek2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990420
Comments: 10
Kudos: 167





	And Yet (Here We Are)

“I swear to god, Stiles, if you do that one more time—”

Stiles smirked before tipping another bucket of water right over Derek’s head. The man spluttered and snarled before glaring, golden eyes sharp and angry from underneath the water that dripped into his face. At that, Stiles barked a laugh. “Oh, come on, witcher. I’m just trying to get you clean.”

“I can clean myself.”

“Oh, can you? Because the last time I left you to your own devices, the blood that was left on your face scared the innkeeper so bad, he refused to give us rooms.”

Derek glared even harder at that, to which Stiles just shrugged. It was true, after all. They'd ended up having to sleep in the stables and Stiles _hated_ sleeping in the stables. Crossing the room, he picked up a rag and chucked it at the witcher, earning another growl. Once more, Stiles just grinned.

“I’m just saying, you need my help. From head to... toe, if you know what I mean.”

“Fuck off.”

“And that’s quite the quaint answer, witcher," Stiles said, snorting. "I can tell you’re in a chatting mood. Which, on that note, might we go back to that thing we were discussing earlier?”

Derek raised a brow and Stiles’s stomach totally didn’t flip at that. Sometimes, he swore he hated how Derek had deemed his eyebrows to be a point of conversation between them. Other times, he was pretty sure it was beyond unfair that literal eyebrows could be so sexy.

Goddamned witchers. Nothing about them played by the rules.

“Oh, come on, Derek, you’d think I’d asked the world of you,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. Crossing back over to the tub, he grabbed the rag from Derek’s hands and pointed it threateningly at him. “All I’m asking is you spend one night making sure that I, you're very best friend, don’t get stabbed in the back by some unfortunate soul who doesn’t understand sarcasm. There will even be food!”

Derek gave him a flat look, although Stiles could read his eyebrows well enough. And he didn’t like the message in them. “Why would I care if you get stabbed in the back?”

“First of all,” Stiles said, offended. “That’s rude. Second of all, who would keep you company if I were to die?”

“I have Camaro,” Derek grunted. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“And that’s tragic.”

“Shut up, bard. That’s all I need.”

The grin slipped from Stiles’s face and he scowled at the man, wringing the cloth out over Derek’s head as he stood again. He’d like to say that he’d totally saved Derek’s life one or two times before, thank you very much, so the witcher owed him this at least. Dropping the rag back into the water, Stiles cuffed him over the head and moved back over to the counter.

“You’re just being difficult.”

“I am not.”

“You are too, Derek. Come on, I need your help here! How would you feel if I were killed?”

From Derek’s expression, Stiles almost wasn’t sure he wanted to know that answer. But then Derek sighed and splashed water over his face again. When he blinked over sideways again with a little more blood washed away, the witcher didn’t look nearly as threatening. “How many of these lords want to kill you?”

“Oh my gods,” Stiles said, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t know. One or two? Maybe three? Plus another handful or four—”

“Why.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “I’ve been told I talk too much.”

Derek’s sigh was nothing but long-suffering this time. But Stiles could see the cracks forming in his dark expression and he huffed, a small smile pulling at his lips. He could always tell when he was wearing the witcher down.

It was much easier than it looked when one knew exactly how annoying to be. “So I’ll take it that’s a yes then, witcher?”

“I’m not doing this for you, bard.”

“Of course not,” Stiles said. “Because the cold-hearted Black Wolf of Hale could never care for anyone else other than himself, right? Look, I just need you to use the scary eyebrows if anyone tries anything, and then we can be on our merry way!”

“The scary eyebrows,” Derek said, looking disgruntled. Stiles snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough, failing terribly when Derek frowned even more.

“Yes, Derek, the scary eyebrows. Like the ones you’re using right now! Just add a little bit of murder and everything should be just fine.”

“I’m not killing anyone tonight.”

“Of course you're not,” Stiles said. “Unless something happens and I need you to slice and dice a little bit. Because yes, I understand. The cranky-danky witcher doesn’t ever get involved in anyone else’s life but his own, except you totally do, don’t you? Plus, I know you need me. It would be the end of your world if I died.”

Derek’s left eye twitched. “Fuck off.”

“Hmm. You need me.”

Stiles half expected the man to say something else crass or cold, but Derek just glared down into his bathwater instead. The silence was sudden and awkward, and Stiles winced as he moved around to the front of the tub, sinking down into a crouch. And this time, when Derek met his gaze again, the man looked a little pained.

“I don’t need you, Stiles, and you really don’t need me. Trust me on that.”

It was little moments like this when Stiles half-wished Derek would use his name more often. He liked how it sounded rolling off the man’s tongue. He liked how hearing it felt. Chewing on his lower lip and studying golden eyes, Stiles just sighed. He could wish a lot of things, he supposed.

But Derek was a difficult one. He always had been.

“And yet,” Stiles said, hanging onto Derek’s last words despite himself. “Here we are.”

_Here we are._

For the first time that night, a long moment of silence passed, and Derek was the one to look away first. The man grunted something unintelligible, splashing more water over his face.

Stiles bit down on his lower lip and tried to cover up a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this cause it was so short, but I really wanted to complete my SterekWeek2020 collection, so here was my drabble from day one (scene-stealer). I'm such a sucker for the Witcher and Sterek, and I love mashing those two together!


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